Replay
by Reaching for Stars
Summary: ...History, too, will inevitably repeat itself. "-Rufus ShinRa
1. Chapter 1

"...History, too, will inevitably repeat itself. "-Rufus ShinRa  
"Not everything happens the same way twice, dear one." -Aslan  
"Shit happens." -Someone

Rated T because there will probably be swearing and vaguely inappropriate conduct, but no sex or grisly descriptions of blood and torture.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything affliated with Squareenix, produced by Squareenix, or belonging to Squareenix.

After Geostigma ended, and the monument in Midgar had fallen, one of the first things the people did was clear the land. For three years, the space remained empty; simply because they didn't know what to do with it.  
After Deepground, however, they chose to erect a monument.  
_We will never forget, _the inscription read, and above it the graven images of heroes rested. Red thirteen, the wise feline. Cait Sith and Reeve Tuesti, a robot and its golden-hearted master. Cid Highwind, the foul-mouthed but somewhat endearing pilot who wanted to fly to the moon. Aerith, pure and gentle Cetra. Barrett Wallace, former leader of AVALANCHE. Yuffie Kisaragi, energetic white rose of Wutai. Vincent Valentine, stoic ex-turk and tortured soul. Tifa Lockheart, the kindest, strongest female on the planet. Cloud Strife. The lonely one.

But those people, like many, had lied.  
They forgot.

It was like paint drying, almost. You didn't know it was dry until you felt it and knew that it was no longer wet. That was the case- except no one, not a single breathing soul, noticed that they had forgotten.  
It was an odd state of forgetfulness. The information was written down, saved, known. People could tell you who Cloud Strife was, what he'd done.  
But what they couldn't tell you was why it mattered. That information was lost. People ceased to care about why ShinRa had fallen, or that its experiments and methods were wrong. They could no longer imagine the horrors of the Wutai-ShinRa war, or the beauty of the aforementioned nation. They forgot the planet's lesson.  
They forgot the reasons _why_.

The statue rusted, fell into disrepair. Even the birds insolently pooped on it, the faces of great people splattered with the remains of subterranean insects. When it was cleaned, it was done resentfully and solely for show. Eventually, it was moved inside, into a museum of history that most people didn't care to visit. It just wasn't convenient.  
Old traditions, abolished before and during the missions and travels of the forgotten heroes, rose again. Slavery was tolerated. Crime was at an all-time high. Once again, the slums rested in the underbellies of fat cities, under the plates supporting rich houses. Businessmen were secret crooks.  
People used the Lifestream as an energy source. No one cared.  
Well, almost no one. A scattered few remained, one or two do-gooders in the ranks of reestablished Shinra, A young prince whose heart wept for his dishonored country, a prostitute on the streets. Two country kids, farming with their parents on Mt. Nibel. A girl who sold roses for two gil. A few assasins. A miner. A mechanic. An experiment or two.  
And a warrior.

ShinRa had a new army. At first, there had been scandal. _Jenova! Jenova! _The alarm bells sounded, before being casually flicked off by the President of the company.  
_There are no more Jenova cells from her body. Those have long been lost. Have you not learnt your history?  
_They had.  
But.  
When Kadaj fell, broken, from the sky, feathers fluttered into the wind. The remains of Jenova's head were nowhere to be found, but the feathers remained. In time, they settled -every single one, as if they were iron filings zooming towards a magnet- into a dark forest pool, in which a body lay.  
When Cloud Strife returned to pull out the body of his friend, he discovered that it was already gone.

There were no more cells in the lost body of Jenova. However, Aerith's body had plenty. Which leads us to wonder- is Jenova really the name of the first body? Was it the first body?  
Or was Jenova already dead, taken over by nameless malignant forces?  
The cells were injected into young men, eager to become stronger and get a pay raise. Plus, the girls loved SOLDIERs, right?  
There was one such young teenage girl, barely fourteen, who became pregnant. Her father was enraged, and kicked her own of the house. She ran to ShinRa, who offered her money in compensation for the right to experiment on her child. She, desperate, agreed. They took the child after its birth, and kicked her out of the building. Weeping, she was left on the streets, with a few coins and the knowledge that if something went wrong with that child, it was all her fault.  
Seth, the baby, grew up to be a prestigious soldier. He was strong, intelligent, charismatic- perfect. He grew quickly into a handsome man, about the same time that one young farm boy applied to become a soldier. He was accepted, and made friends quickly.

Then Seth, like Sephiroth before him, learnt of his origins.  
_Why didn't she want me? How could she leave me? Didn't she love me? Why did ShinRa keep me? Why did they want me? To experiment on me? Am I just...the cells and mako? Without them, would I be anything at all? _Questions tormented him all day, every night, and he sank into a deep depression. After two suicide attempts, his bosses (not father) decided to step in.  
They injected him with medicine, and antidepressants, and doubled his workload to distract him from the endless stream of painful, unanswerable questions. In the end, the stress and depression drove him insane.  
He began to know the meaning of the word hate.  
He hated them. He hated them for stealing his mind, for allowing such an abomination to live. He hated his mother. He hated the people of the world, who adored him and yet couldn't, wouldn't help him. He hated them all.  
And then he heard a voice.  
_We hate, you and I. We hate them. You are strong, and I know how to destroy them...why let the opportunity pass? These miserable pigs don't deserve a life. Let us give them..._exactly_...what they deserve...  
_For the first time in two years, he smiled. His perfect teeth glinted almost sadistically, and his eyes took on a colder, madder air than they had ever possessed.

The next day, Mt. Nibel's reactor was burning.


	2. Chapter 2

Yes, this story is going to be filled with OCs. Sorry.

"Oy, Nim, wake up! It's time to go." The blonde felt himself being shaken by the shoulders, and groaned. His muscles ached. He was so tired...  
"Nimbus!"  
Gods, how he hated his name. Nimbus Orion Altostratus. Basically? Cloud Orion Cloud. Except written by someone with a really retarded vocabulary. His mom.  
His mom was a historian, a big fan of AVALANCHE and stuff. Seeing as that was, like, more than a hundred years ago, it was pretty stupid to name him after Cloud Strife. I mean, wasn't the last name enough?  
It was actually his mom's birthday tonight, and he was about to sneak out of the SOLDIER camps to go home for a day. Permission had been denied (it would hurt to lose both first and second class SOLDIERs if they got lost or disbanded, not to mention the fact that they knew about the JENOVA cells being used...), but that wasn't about to stop Nimbus and his brother Lumos.  
Yeah, Lumos. His mom had a thing for weird-ass names, alright?  
"Nimbus Orion Altostratus, get out of your bed NOW." Lumos had always been able to imitate their mother's voice really well, and Nimbus practically jumped out of bed.  
"Not cool, Lulu." Nimbus growled, using Lumos' most hated nickname. He was rewarded by a scowl and a shove.  
"Come on, Puffhead, we've got to get going. If they catch us, we're screwed." It was true. If they were caught, they might be killed.  
Normally, it really wouldn't be worth the risk, but...  
His mother was dying. She'd been burned in an explosion on Mt. Nibel the day before. No one knew who or what had caused it, but she'd been moved to Midgar (which wasn't too far from where they were camped) for hospitalization, because Nibelheim had lost all power.  
They wanted to say happy birthday to her- or, if it came to it, goodbye.  
Nimbus had a bad feeling and was reluctant to go, but Lumos swore that he had a feeling this night would be important for them.  
_Important how?_ Nimbus had muttered, but he'd agreed. He was a believer in destiny.  
"I still don't think Ma would approve if we were slaughtered just 'cause we wanted to go say happy birthday." He mumbled, but Lumos shook his head.  
"Look, she's dying, Nimbus. We have to go." Lumos looked him in the eyes, and Nimbus felt himself relax. "Oh, fine. Let's go."

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_Son, there are SOLDIERS escaping. What if they were to tell what we've been injecting them with? It would ruin everything, my sweet. You must stop them... take Horace with you. He's a good shot._

Shall I kill them all, mother?

No, Seth dearest. There are only two- kill the older one, the first class soldier. His younger brother will obviously learn obediance from the experience...

Then I'll bring him back?

Yes. That I cannot stress enough. You MUST bring the second class soldier back. He is...one of my sons, as you are.

Your wish is my will, Mother dearest.  
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Nimbus and Lumos moved quickly through the trees, moving towards the lights at the end of the forest. They still had a few miles to go, but it was dark and late, and their mako-enhanced eyes could see the faint glimmering of street lights in the distance.  
Both were tense, moving silently as ghosts in the dark.  
Suddenly, a shot went off.  
"Get down!" Lumos hissed, and Nimbus dropped obediantly to the forest floor.  
Lumos did so as well, hand on his sword. "If anything happens to me, you take the sword and run."  
"I have my own."  
"Take mine anyways." Nimbus nodded, hand on his own sword.  
And then the General and the Scientist stepped forward.  
"It's a pleasure, boys," Horace slimed, gun in hand. "Even though you've been misbehaving."  
"Sir, we were just going to visit our mom," Nimbus blurted out, feeling butterflies dancing in his stomach.  
"A likely excuse." Seth replied, eyes cold. "We're going to have to punish you."  
At that moment, three things happened.  
The first thing was that Lumos jumped forward at the general, sword gleaming, and yelled for Nimbus to help him.  
The second thing was that Nimbus drew his sword, ready to help.  
The third thing was that a voice sounded in his mind.  
_NO! DROP YOUR SWORD, CHILD.  
_Then two things happened.  
Nimbus dropped his sword, and the General slashed Lumos across the throat with his.  
Nimbus snapped out of it at the sight of his fallen brother. "Lumos! NO!" He rushed to his brother's side.  
Lumos was trying to breathe, but couldn't. With the last bit of his energy, he nudged the sword to Nimbus.  
Nimbus understood.  
He picked it up and ran.  
_The sword!  
_His own sword was left behind, unlucky and now ownerless.  
_STOP HIM, HORACE! STOP HIM, SETH! DO NOT HARM HIM, BUT GO NOW!  
_The two rushed after Nimbus, but the man was too speedy. it was the only thing he was best at- running. When it came to swordfighting, he wasn't quite as good as Seth or Lumos- not that the latter would ever spar with him again.  
The former, he suspected, still had a chance yet.

_Lumos, _He thought, blood boiling in his veins, _I'm going to make sure those bastards die for killing you.  
I'm going to find out what that voice was, and I'm going to kill it. I promise you on my very soul I will.  
_-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They did not catch him.

_Fools! Fools! You have set things in motion that cannot be undone. You may have RUINED the plan. Idiots! Unworthy of my lineage! No sons of mine would be that stupid! Sephiroth did a _much _better job than you.  
_And so, basking in remorse and anger, they returned to the camp.

Nimbus spent a week in the forest, avoiding hikers and footsteps like the plague. He stayed out of the way, eating nothing but berries, tubers, and the rations he'd kept in a bag. He sulked, he pondered, he plotted. He knew one thing for sure; he was going to take down the General and Horace. he didn't know how he would, but he would.  
Oh, he would.  
Over those days, his resentment grew into an incredible anger at ShinRa. How could they allow such cruelties? How could they punish so harshly? All the complaints of the poor and dirty now made sense to him, and he remembered the slums and the corruption with a transformed mind. Things seemed worse.  
Now, all the things he didn't want to think about as a younger man forced themselves upon him, and the beginnings of a rebellion formed in his brain.  
On the seventh night, he left the forest.  
Nimbus walked quietly to the city, sword now in the sheath on his shoulders. It was a large sword, thick-bladed and flat. Lumos had found it as a young boy, in the wastelands. He'd kept it ever since.  
Until his death, that was. Now, it was Nimbus' sword. Never again would it belong to Lumos.

"You should get a different outfit, kid." The speaker's voice sounded slightly hoarse, but very young, like a teenager. When Nimbus turned, he saw exactly that- a fifteen-year-old, judging by looks. A tall fifteen-year-old with dirty-blonde hair and orange eyes.  
And this girl was adressing him, a twenty-year-old, as _kid_?  
Maybe she was older than she looked. If anyone had the motivation to look younger than they actually were, it was people with her job- she was a prostitute, by the looks of it. She showed off her curves in a tight, low-cut red top and a short black skirt, some fishnets, typical whore clothing really. She towed along a ratty-looking bag that looked heavy, like it was carrying a few big objects, maybe some coins.  
He looked down at himself, noticing that he still had his SOLDIER outfit on. She was right, it would be suspicious-looking if he kept it.  
"Thanks, I'll find something."  
"No need." She looked him over once, eyes calculating, and rummaged through her bag for a minute or so before tossing out a clean t-shirt and a pair of track pants.  
"Thanks. Here, I'll pay you for them." He was about to pull out his wallet when she shook her head.  
"I don't need it."  
"Everyone needs to eat and have clothes."  
"Not me." There was something strained in her grim smile, and he suddenly got the impression that she was much older than she looked. Her eyes met his, and he looked away, unable to face something in those orange eyes.  
"You should go to the public bathrooms over there. They're empty. Then you can get rid of the SOLDIER getup. Or just give it to me."  
He did so, and tossed her the worn suit.  
"Here." After a moment, he looked at her, frowning. "Why'd you help me?"  
"You looked lost...and I've got a lot to make up for." She turned her back to him, stuffing the uniform into her bag. "You should get going, find a place for the night."  
"I will."  
"You could blend in with the Nibelheim refugees. They're in the plaza over there, with some tents." She waved a hand in the vague direction of the plaza.  
He nodded. "Thanks. "  
He left, and when he looked back she was still there, waiting.  
_Waiting for what? _He wondered, and then turned back to the camp.

"Gods, is that you, Nimbus?"  
He turned, finding himself face-to-face with a green-eyed, redheaded girl. It took him a moment to recognize her, but when he did, he smiled. Or attempted to, anyways.  
"Ruby."  
She could tell something was wrong- from his air of deep sadness. She had a certain intuition for these things, and her gentle spirit was deeply affected by his troubled appearance.  
"Nimbus! Oh, it is you. But where's Lumos?" She looked frantically around, trying to tell if her lover was hidden somewhere behind Nimbus.  
"He's..." He couldn't finish, couldn't bring himself to say the awful word. "Dead." he blurted out, after a good two minutes of agony.  
She looked at him, blankly, as if he was speaking a foreign language, and then turned away.  
"I'm sorry." She breathed, and he didn't see the tears that rolled silently down her whitened cheeks.  
"You didn't kill him." He replied, sounding angry. "The general did. He did it."  
She stared, her historian's brain disbelieving. She'd majored in history at school, and suddenly the situation seemed all too clear to her...  
_Oh, leviathan, sweet leviathan, don't let it be true. No, no, no! Jenova is gone. Jenova is gone...  
But the __**mako eyes**__... and the...strength... the __**General...**__the burning __**reactors. **__No! No! Oh god, oh god.  
Nimbus...the- oh my god. The __**sword**__. And...__**Nimbus**__. Losing a loved one...it can't be. How does no one __**know**__?  
_She whirled around, facing him instead of looking over her shoulder.  
"Nimbus, have you been hearing voices?"  
He flinched, then his eyes flashed. "Ruby, who makes the voices?" He growled, and she nearly fainted.  
_It..__**is **__happening.  
_"Cl-... Nimbus, I know you didn't care much for history-"  
"Look, Ruby, I know you love that boring stuff, but just get to the damn point."  
"Jenova, Nimbus. Jenova made voices. Now...we need to get you somewhere. We need to hide you and you need to meet someone."  
"Jenova? But she's gone, Rube! She doesn't exist!" He sounded frustrated. However, deep inside him, he remembered the contract he'd signed as a recruit- _I, Nimbus A., agree to refrain from disclosing, encouraging the disclosure of, or in any way informing public or private investigators, persons, agencies... of the materials with which I am being injected._  
"Look, Nimbus, I'll explain later. But we have to go."


End file.
